The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
